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Photos by Robert Slack
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I wish I had met Edwin Teale, a
Pulitzer Prize winning author, and his wife, Nellie. Both were naturalists. I
treasure his words in his book, A
Naturalist Buys an Old Farm. It captures not only the beauty, but the magic
of Trail Wood, a 168 parcel of land in Hampton, Connecticut where they lived.
As October’s chill crisps the air, I
wish I could have visited them in their white Cape style house at the end of the lane
and share a pot of hot tea in front of the fieldstone fireplace. His writing
allows me to imagine their conversations; Nellie chatting about her latest fern
discovery, number 26, Edwin noting they had exceeded 140 in their bird species
tally, and how he hid behind a blueberry bush while he watched a beaver
break through the pond’s frozen surface. As meticulous and serious as Edwin was
about recording the wildlife around him, it
makes me laugh when he speaks about the staring contest he had with a woodchuck
and the number of times each of them blinked. The woodchuck won. Who tries to
stare down a woodchuck? Or knows how many tons of snowflakes fell on Trail Wood
during one snowstorm? Edwin. It’s all in his book. And yet as
knowledgeable as Edwin’s writing is, brilliant perhaps, he doesn't lecture or
speak down to the reader, rather his words invite us all to share in his
discoveries.
On Saturday October
17, my husband and I visited Trail Wood, with a camera, binoculars,
and open hearts. As my husband
and I walked up towards their white house, I knew we wouldn’t find Nellie or
Edwin at home. Edwin passed away close to this day on October 18, 1980 at the age of 81. Before his death, the Teales deeded their land
to the Connecticut Audubon Society, which opens Trail Wood to the public daily. Nellie
continued to reside at Trail Wood and told the NY Times in an interview in
1990, “One afternoon, we were driving to Indianapolis, and Edwin noticed the
beautiful sunset . . . I had never been out with a man that had ever paid
attention to sunsets.” Edwin’s love for Nellie was reflected in one of his
earlier book’s dedication, “. . . to the sun and the moon and Nellie; to the
pasture rose and the bluebird and Nellie; to the starlight and the rainbow and
Nellie; to all that means the most to me at Trail Wood especially Nellie."
Nellie had insisted
Edwin's office remain unchanged. I peak through the window. A beam of late
afternoon sunlight falls across the room highlighting the rocking chair by the
fireplace. Three walls of built-in shelves support rows of books, pens lay-in-waiting
beside the blotter on Edwin’s large desk, and several rocks are perched on the
windowsill. I need to make an appointment and step inside someday, but I feel
another tug and turn way. The Writing Cabin beckons.
The Cabin, a ten by fourteen foot long log
structure, is where Edwin escaped to write and think about the natural beauty
that graced his cabin’s doorstep. I
sit on the same slabs of lichen covered stone, breathe deeply, and try to quiet
my mind. Around me the wind whispers through the yellowing aspen leaves. Below, "Hidden Pond" is a portrait of nature's watercolors. The surrounding tree's
reflections of reds, yellows and oranges are smeared across the water’s
surface. The quiet is interrupted, but not interfered with, by the chatter of
chipmunks and the click of my husband’s camera.
Ready to explore we
follow the trail past Seven Springs Swamp through West Woods and pause by ferns
struggling to hold onto summer’s breath. Heading towards Beaver Pond we
turn down a path blanketed in a colorful mosaic of fallen leaves. We
listen for the songbirds and remember a Common Yellow Throat we tracked through
the brush around the water’s edge last summer. It is a lonelier place without
his cheerful voice.
Stepping out of the
woods into the open pasture we startle a deer, who turns and leaps out of
sight. Taking the trail down by the brook we notice the
water is running low and wonder how many animals come by to quench their
thirst. We spot a lone red
leaf on a round rock left behind like a love note. My
husband steals a kiss by the darkening grays of a stonewall.
I have often wished
that one night my husband and I could stargaze in the meadow they named
Starfield. Edwin wrote, “Over me streams that river of stars, the Milky Way,
known to the ancient Chinese as the ‘Little Sister of the Rainbow.’” I imagine lying
there next to my husband, holding hands, watching that sparkling rainbow and
wondering if it’s an astral pathway to the Heavens and I would smile just in
case Edwin and Nellie were watching.
To learn more about Trail Wood - The Edwin Way Teale Memorial Sanctuary visit the Connecticut Audubon Society at:
http://www.ctaudubon.org/center-at-pomfret/trail-wood/#sthash.tIdaehMw.dpbs
